


Synopsis: Archangel

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Meta, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-31
Updated: 2003-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Synopsis: Archangel

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Archangel

**ARCHANGEL**

In 1625, an ostracized and newly immortal Duncan MacLeod encountered a hermit that foretold his destiny, telling the Highlander that he was both blessed and cursed. MacLeod had been chosen to ultimately confront the great evil that comes to earth every thousand years. 

The Highlander had other concerns then, and put this prophecy in the back of his mind. 

Now is his time. And, he's not ready. 

All religions espouse concepts of good and evil, darkness and light. The Evil One has many names, Satan (Judeo-Christian, Moslem), Set (Egyptian), Mara, (Hindu, Buddhism). The Zoroastrian name for him is Angra Mainyu or Ahriman. MacLeod must face this awful power. Ahriman torments MacLeod by appearing to him as evil humans Mac has already killed-James Horton and Kronos. (Nice to see them again.) But he also can take the forms of innocents, even masquerading as Richie Ryan-the ultimate deception. 

MacLeod is confused, disoriented, doubting his own sanity. He knows he killed Horton and Kronos...or does he? Joe and Methos are convinced he's losing it. Only Richie continues to believe him. He's determined to help MacLeod in his battle, and the results are disastrous. 

This is the first of three parts. 

_New Characters:_

**JASON LANDRY** \- Archaeologist who learned that MacLeod is the next champion. He tries to warn and prepare him for the struggle. 

**FOSTER** \- Landry's assistant in Iraq. 

**ALLISON LANDRY** \- Landry's daughter who tries to help MacLeod and pays for it with her life. 

**THE HERMIT** \- Defeated Ahriman 1000 years ago, waited for the Highlander for 600 years, then lost his head when they finally met. (Duncan has that effect on folks sometimes). 

* * *

An Ancient Tomb Near Basra, Iraq 

In the depths of the cave,   
They tread cautiously,   
Their video camera-   
Records quietly-   
A statue of stone,   
Landry pauses, awe-stricken,   
Jeers Foster, 'We've come-   
Just to see that stone _chicken?_ ' 

Landry whispers, 'I feel him,   
He knows we are here,'   
But that granite chicken's-   
Not the cause of his fear,   
Peering down a side passage-   
They quickly recoil-   
At a hideous statue-   
A massive gargoyle. 

The devil incarnate-   
Holds a spear made of stone,   
Red jewel in his forehead,   
Sharp teeth, to crush bone,   
Wings frame his back,   
Piercing eyes that compel,   
This creature of darkness-   
The vile spawn of Hell. 

Landry walks toward the wall,   
Reads the symbols engraved,   
'Ahriman! It is he!   
The demon, depraved-   
One thousand years-   
Have passed, he is coming-   
The dead will soon rise!'   
Landry feels the air humming. 

A bloody red mist-   
'Round the statue has swirled,   
The spear glows white-hot,   
Then forward, it's hurled...   
Impaling poor Foster!   
He dies where he stands,   
Horrified, Landry sees-   
Ahriman's empty hands. 

The Barge, Nighttime   
Six Months Later 

Landry has come-   
To the barge, in his quest,   
The 'chosen one' must-   
Be prepared for the test,   
The barge is now empty,   
But people are nearing,   
Muffled voices through fog,   
Soon they'll be appearing. 

Mac's love of the opera-   
He clearly is tryin'-   
To share and impart-   
To a bored Richie Ryan,   
Asks Rich, 'What's the point?   
Things are different, today,'   
Mac responds, 'People act-   
In the very same way.' 

'Mac, I believe-   
That the world's gone insane,'   
Mac insists, 'Art and culture-   
Will always remain,'   
Landry hears the name, 'Mac,'   
It is Heaven's own choice!   
'Are you Duncan MacLeod?'   
Urgency in his voice. 

'Yeah,' Mac's response-   
Is wary and bland,   
_'Thank G-d! I must warn you!_   
THE TIME IS AT HAND!   
_The millenium's upon us!_   
HE'S COMING!' shouts Landry,   
Mac thinks the old codger-   
Had a bit too much brandy. 

'There's not much time!   
You! You, alone!-   
Are the one who can stop him!'   
Life and death in his tone,   
Then from a red mist-   
On the steps overhead...   
A figure steps out,   
Returned from the dead. 

'Richie, stay there!'   
MacLeod's heart is racing,   
'Stop! You don't know-   
What it is you are facing...'   
Landry entreats him-   
'You haven't been taught-   
The way to defeat him,   
How your fight must be fought!' 

But Duncan is deaf-   
To the older man's pleas,   
A smiling James Horton-   
Is all that he sees.   
Mac's mind flashes back-   
Horton dead in that field-   
Horton wasn't Immortal,   
He _couldn't_ have healed! 

_'You can't be here!'_   
States a bewildered Mac,   
'Who?' Richie asks-   
Right there, at his back,   
'Horton, James Horton...   
He was right there,'   
'Mac, there is no one-   
Nothing but air.' 

But 'Horton''s still there-   
With his malicious grin,   
Taunting MacLeod,   
Deftly reeling him in,   
'I killed you,' says Mac,   
Rich can't comprehend-   
What's wrong with the mind-   
Of his teacher and friend? 

'Horton' is gloating,   
Enjoying Mac's pain   
'Ask yourself...'Is he real?   
Or, have I gone insane?   
How many times-   
Will you have to kill me?'   
'Only once,' then MacLeod-   
Draws his sword, rapidly. 

Mac reaches the top-   
Of the steps...Horton's gone!   
Only Richie's behind him-   
Worried and drawn,   
'Mac, look around-   
Not a soul you will find,   
Horton's been dead three years.'   
Has MacLeod lost his mind? 

Down by the barge,   
Voices are chanting,   
The red mist swirls up,   
Now Landry is panting,   
Seeing the demon-   
He shrieks his last breath-   
As his scarf chokes his neck-   
And he strangles to death. 

They hear Landry's screams-   
Run back to assist him,   
Anyone else around?   
They certainly missed him,   
When Rich goes to look,   
MacLeod kneels to check-   
He sees the red bruises-   
Around Landry's neck. 

Short Time Later 

The ambulance takes-   
Landry's body away,   
'Poor harmless crazy,'   
Is all Rich can say,   
'Maybe,' says Mac,   
'But my name he knew...   
And he wasn't a Watcher,   
Didn't have a tattoo.' 

Cemetery, Next Day 

Horton's grave gapes-   
Like a wound, deep and raw,   
The official's polite,   
'His brother-in-law-   
Had it exhumed,   
The plane leaves today,   
The remains will be shipped-   
To the USA.' 

Mac quietly seethes,   
Joe betrayed him again!   
Rich checks, 'A tall guy-   
Grey hair, beard and cane?'   
'Yes, a nice man,   
Haste was his worry,'   
Mac bitterly notes,   
'Yes, he'd want to hurry.' 

Orly Airport 

MacLeod confronts Dawson-   
Convinced he will lie,   
'His daughter, my niece-   
Wants him buried nearby...   
I know what he did,   
But he's dead! Let it be.'   
'Last night,'sneers MacLeod,-   
He seemed healthy, to me.' 

Mac grabs a crowbar,   
Pries open the lid,   
Livid with rage-   
Over what Dawson did!   
He expects that no corpse-   
Will be resting therein,   
But the skeleton is there-   
With its skull's ghastly grin. 

The guards pull him back-   
All's in disarray,   
Joe and Rich exchange glances-   
As Mac's led away.   
Ahriman grins nearby-   
In his Horton disguise,   
An unearthly red glow-   
Pulsates in his eyes. 

Police Station 

Ironic, indeed-   
MacLeod has been jailed,   
Here's Rich to the rescue-   
'You would have been nailed-   
But Joe told them charges-   
Should not be brought,'   
'I said you're a friend,   
With grief, overwrought.' 

Mac says it's not over,   
'That body inside-   
Could be any man's-   
Of the same size, that died.   
Joe turns sarcastic,   
'An amazing idea!   
He's with JFK and Elvis-   
And Jerry Garcia!' 

'You lied once before!'   
Joe looks away, pained,   
'Good luck,' Joe tells Rich,   
Nothing more can be gained,   
Rich leaves with Mac,   
'Where would Horton be?'   
'Maybe that's what the old man-   
Tried to tell me.' 

The Morgue 

The medical examiner-   
Makes the puzzle more tangled,   
'Landry died of a stroke,   
The man wasn't strangled,'   
'Can I see the body?'   
Mac asks in frustration,   
'His granddaughter claimed it.   
It's gone for cremation.' 

'How convenient,' scoffs Mac   
'Do you have the address?'   
Once more, he's polite,   
She perceives his distress,   
As she goes off to get it,   
One corpse turns its head,   
Stares straight at Duncan,   
It's eyes flashing red. 

The Barge, Nighttime 

MacLeod is indoors,   
But feels the cold chill,   
Wrapped in his coat,   
Sitting thoughtful and still,   
The chessboard is set,   
But his mind meditates,   
Outside the red mist,   
Surrounds, inundates. 

A movement, a flutter-   
Is the lighting too dim?   
Something, no...someone-   
Is there, watching him!   
Stepping out in full armor-   
A master of terror...   
KRONOS! But, no....   
There must be some error! 

Mac blinks to dispel-   
This hallucination,   
But, 'Kronos' remains!   
This manifestation-   
Cannot be real,   
Mac remembers distinctly-   
Before Kronos died,   
Their last words, succinctly. 

_'I am the end-  
Of time!'_ Kronos said,   
MacLeod hissed, _'You're history!'_   
Then took his head.   
Now Kronos stands taunting,   
MacLeod draws his blade,   
'C'mon,' he invites-   
Then... watches him fade. 

Mac thinks, 'Am I crazy?   
Losing my mind?'   
He leaps from the barge-   
Only to find-   
METHOS! Saying, 'Mac-   
It's me!' he's concerned...   
'Avoid MacLeod's sword,'   
The old guy has learned. 

'Did you see him?' asks Mac,   
His sword's at the ready,   
'Who?' Methos wonders,   
MacLeod seems unsteady,   
'Kronos.' 'Oh, really?'   
This is a shocker,   
He wonders if Mac-   
Has gone off his rocker. 

So far, Mac has witnessed-   
Events that astound,   
Some reason, some answers-   
Perhaps can be found-   
With Landry's granddaughter,   
He'll go there tonight   
He leaves Methos staring-   
Till he's out of sight. 

Allison Landry's Apartment 

Does Allison have-   
The answers he seeks?   
She listens intently-   
As the Highlander speaks,   
'He was killed, I was there,'   
But she's never heard-   
Of Horton, the Watchers...   
It all seems absurd. 

'Before Grandpa died,   
Did he say something?'   
'The world would soon end-   
And 'He' would be coming.'   
She now looks uneasy,   
Mac wants to know why,   
'You won't believe it.'   
He begs her to try. 

'Weird ancient religions-   
Were his specialty,'   
'The Mythology of Heroes.   
He wrote expertly.'   
'Yes, he believed-   
Good and evil would fight-   
For the fate of the world-   
Unobserved, out of sight.' 

'He traveled to Egypt,   
India and Iraq,   
Searching the texts-   
For how to attack-   
An evil this great.   
He learned there must be-   
A champion.' Mac tells her-   
'He said it was me.' 

She takes him to see-   
Her grandfather's journal,   
Mac reads the description-   
Of the monster, infernal,   
'It's Persian,' notes Mac,   
She says, 'He believed-   
Zoroastrian myths-   
Of a cycle achieved.' 

'Every thousand years-   
The cycle's repeated-   
This fiend comes to earth-   
And must be defeated.'   
Mac reads further on-   
'The next warrior is-   
_MacLeod_ '...written there-   
The same name as his. 

Mac is nonplussed,   
It's all so bizarre,   
Allison puts a tape-   
In her VCR.   
The tape from Iraq-   
Landry comments with zeal,   
'Others have doubted-   
But Foster, it's real.' 

Then the spear glows-   
White hot, it is thrust!   
The tape is now blank,   
Mac tries to adjust.   
'He thought I'm the champion?'   
She confirms, it is true,   
'He feared it would kill him-   
Before he found you.' 

While they converse-   
Outside the mist swirls,   
Crimson hued haze-   
Ever upward, it curls,   
Outside her window-   
Sits silently waiting-   
For the right moment-   
It's alive, calculating. 

The Barge 

Mac's studied all night,   
As is evidenced-   
By his haggard appearance.   
What's he up against?   
The books have been useless,   
Nothing further, he's gained,   
Richie's opinion?   
'Maybe this is ordained.' 

Mac is exhausted,   
'Don't start,' he resists,   
But, Richie is serious,   
'Look,' he persists...   
'Cassandra foretold-   
In her prophecy-   
You'd face a great evil,   
Maybe it's meant to be.' 

Duncan remembers-   
Cassandra's prediction,   
Four centuries ago-   
She saw the depiction-   
A child of the Highlands-   
Sees Darkness and Light,   
Good versus Evil,   
Could this be the fight? 

'What if I refuse?'   
Despair's in Mac's voice,   
Rich says to MacLeod-   
'You might not have a choice.'   
'I never believed-   
In fate, prophesies,'   
Says MacLeod, 'until now.'   
He recalls with unease. 

Flashback, Scotland, 1625 

'I was newly Immortal,   
Trying hard to survive,   
I had no idea-   
Why I was alive,   
No family or clan,   
And that winter was brutal,   
I aimlessly wandered,   
Existence seemed futile.' 

'Then the strange feeling,   
I sensed once before,   
With Kanwulf, the Viking,   
Deep down in my core,   
A cave was nearby-   
A hermit, warm food,   
He waited for me-   
In his solitude.' 

'He knew who I was,   
The trials that befell me,   
He predicted I'd soon-   
Find the one who would tell me-   
All that I was,   
And all I could be-   
And I must fulfill-   
My assigned destiny.' 

'I'd face an evil,   
Blood red from its birth,   
Each thousand years-   
It visits the earth,   
'I did my part,'   
The hermit confided,   
'Now _you_ are chosen,   
Your fate's been decided'' 

'To his throat, he pointed-   
'Place your blade here,   
Take my head now,   
Soon all will be clear,   
Taste what you are!'   
But, I refused,   
I thought he was mad-   
And I wouldn't be used.' 

'Then he came at me-   
With all of his might,   
I parried his thrusts,   
But still wouldn't fight,   
Then he drew close,   
Held tight to my blade,   
Cut off his own head,   
Left me stunned and afraid.' 

'My first Quickening-   
Struck brutally,   
I had not a clue-   
What was happening to me,   
Bu the hermit's prediction-   
Came true, as avowed,   
I soon met my teacher,   
Connor MacLeod.' 

The Barge, Present Day 

'The rest of the prophecy-   
I soon erased,   
Now I don't know-   
With what I am faced,'   
Richie says, 'Change-   
That 'I' to a 'We,''   
Mac responds firmly,   
'It's coming for _me._ ' 

'I'm sticking by you,   
You wouldn't leave _me!_ '   
Duncan is touched-   
By his friend's loyalty,   
Richie believes him-   
And Duncan is proud-   
Of the man he's become...   
'Thanks,' says MacLeod. 

Allison Landry's Apartment 

Allison's alone.   
Duncan has gone.   
Thoughts of her grandfather-   
Turn her tears on,   
But Evil has plans-   
Already begun-   
Soon she'll be trapped-   
With nowhere to run. 

The Devil's a trickster,   
He thrives on confusion,   
Visions and voices-   
A complex illusion,   
There's Jason Landry!   
But it can't be...he's dead!   
Suddenly he is gone,   
Ahriman's there, instead. 

Doors loudly slam,   
Locking her in,   
Now 'Landry''s back-   
With a sinister grin,   
He raises his arms-   
White-hot, he turns,   
Then only her screams-   
Are heard, as she burns. 

A Park's Walkpath 

Richie expected-   
To have some support-   
From Methos and Joe,   
But, he's coming up short.   
'This millenium theory-   
Is nothing new,'   
Methos adds, 'I have yet-   
Any demon to view.' 

Rich asks them, 'What other-   
Cause can you find?'   
Joe: 'Duncan MacLeod-   
Is losing his mind.'   
But on one course-   
They all agree,   
Jason Landry's granddaughter's-   
The person to see. 

Outside Allison's Apartment 

She's now a burnt corpse-   
Covered in white,   
Being carried from the scene,   
Of the fire last night,   
'Arson,' say the cops-   
'The suspect is male,   
Tall, with dark hair-   
And a long ponytail.' 

Methos can't speak,   
He leaves it to Joe,   
Joe looks deadpan,   
'Nobody we know.'   
If Rich harbors doubts-   
He sure doesn't show it,   
'Mac was not involved-   
With this...and you know it.' 

The Barge 

Mac enters, worn-out,   
Flings his jacket aside,   
A stiff drink of scotch-   
Now seems justified,   
Then a voice from his bed...   
'Had a hard day?'   
There's 'Allison'...draped-   
In a black negligee. 

'What are _you_ doing here?'   
In a flash, he's alone!   
Then a ringing... _her_ voice-   
Playing games, on the phone.   
'Now, you can see me...   
And now you don't,'   
He sits traumatized,   
But back off, he won't. 

Now she's behind him,   
Hands cover his eyes,   
'Guess who?' she demands,   
He whirls in surprise-   
Pushing her back,   
Smashing a vase,   
'I'm sorry,' he mumbles,   
Now lost, in a daze. 

She first tries seduction,   
Then accusation,   
'You killed me, then set-   
A huge conflagration.'   
'It didn't happen!'   
He protests, in dismay,   
She: 'But the police think -   
It happened that way.' 

He draws the katana,   
By instinct, reverting-   
To the only sure way-   
He knows of averting-   
The triumph of Evil,   
She reclines, languidly,   
Pulls the blade to her throat,   
'Take it, than take me.' 

MacLeod's paralyzed-   
Listening to her words hurled,   
'MacLeod, do you want-   
To save the whole world...   
Or just yourself?'   
Then Horton's rough voice-   
'Maybe I'm not-   
Real at all!' What a choice! 

Mac's shocked to his senses,   
Again, she has gone,   
The vase stands intact,   
This phenomenon...   
Never happened? Not real?   
It's grotesque and confusing,   
Now Mac is unsure-   
If his mind, he is losing. 

Meanwhile 

Methos and Joe-   
Think Mac's fantasizing,   
'Seeing people he killed,'   
Only Richie's surmising-   
'What if it's all real?'   
Both Methos and Joe-   
Scoff at the thought-   
Of the demons below. 

But, Richie persists,   
'What if...in the end-   
We Immortals exist-   
So one could contend-   
With this?' But, he sees-   
These two won't agree.   
As he leaves, they commend-   
His 'blind loyalty.' 

The Barge, Nighttime 

Mac sits by the fire,   
He's re-read the journal.   
Of Ahriman's weakness-   
He finds not one kernel-   
Of knowledge to help him-   
No more can he learn,   
Chucks the book in the fire,   
It commences to burn. 

Then he yanks it out!   
That's not the answer,   
He must find a way-   
To demolish this cancer,   
A Buzz from the door,   
It's Methos and Joe,   
'Where're the men in white coats?'   
MacLeod wants to know. 

'Mac, you're in trouble,'   
He: 'I'm not insane!   
I saw and I heard them,'   
He fights to explain,   
'Don't know what they were,   
But I know they were real.'   
'And you think they were demons?'   
They perceive his ordeal. 

Outside 

Rich walks bare-headed-   
In the rain, toward the barge   
His debt to MacLeod,   
For his help is so large,   
Rich cannot conceive-   
Of abandoning Mac,   
Now when he most needs-   
A friend at his back. 

A car's pulling up,   
'Horton''s in the back seat-   
With a crimson red scarf-   
And a grin, sticky-sweet,   
Beside him-'Joe Dawson,'   
A gun to his head,   
His eyes say it all-   
Very soon, he'll be dead. 

Rich chases the car,   
MacLeod saw the truth...   
Horton's alive!   
Richie finds a phone booth,   
Dials up MacLeod,   
Says quickly to Mac,   
'I think they are headed-   
To the old race track.' 

The Barge 

MacLeod had been saying,   
'The world's in a state,   
War, famine, chaos,   
So much fear and hate,   
There has to be something-   
To this prophecy,   
If I'm crazy or not,   
You cannot help me.' 

He takes Richie's call,   
Hears...'He's got Joe!'   
'Impossible,' says Mac,   
'Do nothing, don't go!'   
Rich says, 'Sorry, Mac,'   
Then runs to his fate,   
Mac gives Joe the phone,   
Hoping he's not too late. 

'Keep Rich on the line,'   
Yells an exiting Mac,   
'He's located them-   
At the old race track,'   
'Richie...Richie,' tries Joe,   
All he hears is a tone,   
With a worried expression,   
Dawson hangs up the phone. 

The Old Racetrack 

Richie walks forward,   
In the cavernous gloom,   
'Joe!' he calls out,   
All's quiet, like a tomb   
Through corridors dark,   
Grim shadows appear,   
But his voice, his own footsteps-   
Are all he can hear. 

Mac's reached the entrance,   
He's frantic with worry,   
Vacant car, crimson headlights,   
He knows he must hurry,   
Over the building-   
A red mist has blown,   
As MacLeod rushes in-   
To confront the unknown. 

On a 'down' escalator-   
'Richie' hunkers, head bowed,   
'Richie, it's me.'   
Says a worried MacLeod,   
'Richie' responds-   
By lifting his head,   
He whispers, 'I know,'   
While his eyes glow blood red. 

'You!' snaps MacLeod,   
Raising his sword,   
Even Richie's facsimile-   
Strikes a deep chord-   
'Cause when there's a chance-   
To render 'Rich' bloody...   
Mac stops! 'What's the matter-   
Can't hurt little buddy?' 

'Some champion!' taunts 'Rich,'   
Cutting Duncan with ease,   
MacLeod slashes back...   
But it's 'Horton,' he sees,   
'I'm the man you can't kill,'   
Mac pauses for breath,   
'One way or another-   
Every one can find death.' 

Back to 'Richie,' then Kronos!   
Evil has many talents,   
His foes change so quickly-   
Mac loses his balance,   
Down on one knee,   
He sees, now descending,   
'Horton,' on the escalator-   
Right arm extending. 

Mac's sword will not reach-   
He's too close to run,   
But he sees 'Horton''s hand-   
Is holding a gun,   
The trigger is pulled,   
The Highlander's downed,   
Somewhere nearby,   
Richie starts at the sound. 

'Joe?' Richie calls,   
As he walks toward the noise,   
While a bloodied MacLeod-   
Faces that which destroys,   
'What the hell _are_ you?'   
'Horton' sneers, 'I am Set!'   
'Richie,' 'I'm Ahriman!   
'Kronos,' 'Devil' (triple threat). 

'Horton'says, 'I am Anger.   
I... am... the... Dark!'   
'Richie', 'Chaos, Fear, Doubt-   
Anarchy!' his remark,   
States 'Kronos,' I existed-   
Before time began,   
And I will exist-   
To the end of time's span.' 

They circle 'round Duncan,   
Each plying his tricks,   
Each of them doubling,   
The three become six,   
Around and around,   
Peeling laughter and glee,   
'All that matters,' says 'Rich'-   
'Is you cannot stop me.' 

MacLeod lashes out-   
With all of his strength,   
They vanish in air!   
Down the corridor's length-   
Emptiness yawns,   
Mac's bewildered, in pain,   
He looks all around-   
Will he find them again? 

But they'll hound _him_ now,   
One by one quickly dashing-   
So near his sword,   
He's exhausted from slashing,   
As the real Richie nears-   
Calling Joe's name aloud,   
He walks ever closer-   
To a harried MacLeod. 

'Rich,' 'Kronos,' 'Horton',   
In turn, persecute him,   
When the real Rich approaches,   
Mac's dazed, can't dispute him-   
Mac rushes, sword raised,   
One stroke, powerfully-   
Beheads Richie Ryan-   
Cuts him down, like a tree. 

The blood-red mist rises,   
Soon envelops the one-   
Duncan MacLeod-   
Now sees what he's done!   
'NO! NO!' he is shrieking,   
As the Quickening takes him,   
Then the essence of Richie-   
Torments and shakes him. 

Richie pours in him,   
His face in the lightning,   
His screams in the thunder,   
Mac's torment is heightening,   
But it's not enough-   
The Demon's not sated,   
One more stab at Mac,   
This champion, so hated. 

As Mac kneels collapsed,   
Wondering, how could this be?   
A figure emerges-   
Mac turns hopefully,   
'Richie?' His voice-   
Small and desperate it pleads-   
But the eyes glow bright red,   
All hope's now recedes. 

Methos and Joe-   
Have come in meanwhile-   
They do not see-   
Ahriman's evil smile,   
'Rich,' 'Horton,' 'Kronos,'   
All say their farewell,   
Unseen by Mac's friends,   
Leaving Mac to his hell. 

MacLeod is in tears,   
He cut down his friend,   
His student, who loved him-   
Stayed loyal to the end,   
MacLeod was his hero,   
Though sorrow and fun,   
To Rich, Mac would always-   
Remain number one. 

Mac lifts the katana-   
Only two words are said,   
'Take it,' to Methos,   
Meaning his head,   
Methos refuses,   
In his own grief immersed,   
Mac drops the blade,   
As if it were cursed. 

As these three mourn,   
In their private ways,   
We see scenes of Richie-   
From earlier days,   
He's curious, loving,   
Playful and sad,   
Above all...the son-   
That MacLeod never had. 

Joe sings a tribute,   
To the young Richie Ryan,   
Remembering his days-   
On a motorbike, flyin'   
He loved Mac and Tessa-   
As his family,   
If he lived, what a wonderful-   
Man he would be. 

Mac takes off a glove-   
Where Richie's hand hung,   
Holds it high and walks off-   
With a vow, in Sioux tongue,   
Joe sobs, broken-hearted,   
Methos holds him tight,   
The katana remains,   
Glowing red, in the night. 

To be continued... 

Peace, Emit   
© 2002 

**Joe's song, written and sung by Jim Byrnes:**

Where do I go now?   
How can I set it free?   
Where do I find the words?   
What do _you_ mean to me?   
Just what is it I want?   
What the hell can I do?.... Oh-oh-oh-oh..   
Why must I lie to myself?   
How do I get back to you? 

Who was it put up this wall?   
Why can't we tear it down?   
How can I make it better?   
Why such a lonesome old town?   
Oh-oh-oh-oh.   
Why in this lonely old town?   
Ay-oh-oh-oh. 

**_Under the Kilt,_ from Highlander: The Official Site: **

David Abramowitz, Creative Consultant   
'This was the beginning of Ahriman. And I killed Richie; it was my fault. And I assume full responsibility for it. And I say once again, for anyone who wants to listen, that Richie is dead.' 

**Don Paonessa, Creative Consultant, Post Production**   
'This was when Richie got killed, so we did the homage to Richie Quickening. We had images of Richie as Mac was being quickened. Also, that was the red show and that was playing around with Post visual effects, taking the fog and turning it red, putting red in the eye of Horton, color-timing, creating those devilish things. This is where the girl got burned up and we played around with that, creating some flame things.' 

**Ken Gord, Producer**   
'Richie got killed in the racetrack. Dennis Berry added a lot to that. The whole scene where Duncan killed Richie was very well designed by Dennis, it was not scripted.' 

~ Avatar   
  
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